


Don't Touch Christophe's Stuff

by Mia_Moni



Category: South Park
Genre: But It Goes Wrong, Chris tried to steal Greg's gum, Christophe takes food really seriously, Gum - Freeform, I love them so much, M/M, Prompt Fic, Sexual Language, The boys are stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mia_Moni/pseuds/Mia_Moni
Summary: Christophe can be quite territorial with his stuff, and he especially doesn't like when people take his strawberry gum.
Relationships: Christophe "The Mole"/Gregory of Yardale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 44





	Don't Touch Christophe's Stuff

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Acho que engoli o chiclete](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596102) by [Monilovely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monilovely/pseuds/Monilovely). 



> This is a translation from one of my previous works  
> I'm not completely fluent in english so excuse me if anything seems wrong or out of place!
> 
> It is a fanfic based on the prompt "Person A is chewing the last piece of gum in a really good pack so Person B pulls them into a kiss to lowkey steal it out of Person A's mouth"
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

Sometimes, in the heat of boredom, Christophe liked to try making shapes with his cigarette’s smoke. He didn't necessarily need a reason to smoke. Making - or at least _trying_ to make - drawings with cigarette smoke was just something he liked to do when he lit one. Especially when the boredom as big as it was now.

The only problem was the stink it left on his breath. Gregory would always be at his throat for stinking up the atmosphere with the smell he hated so much. 

Fortunately, he always had a solution to those little problems he had in the small apartment he shared with the Englishman. Sometimes, on rare occasions, Gregory would return home with a pink box that made Christophe's eyes shine as soon as he laid eyes on it. No, it wasn't anything sex related. It was a box full of strawberry-flavored gum.

Christophe had no idea where he bought that shit or how he got so many boxes at once, but, by God, if there was anything more addictive than cigarettes, it was that gum. It might sound stupid, but the Frenchman couldn't _not_ like that shit. It was too good! It was one of those _fancy_ treats the Englishman brings home once in a while, be it from work or somewhere classy he was invited to a while ago. Maybe that's why it seemed better than ordinary gum.

Damn rich people's food.

Christophe loved to chew that gum after smoking a cigarette. Not only did it take his horrible cigarette breath away, but it also left a great taste of strawberry in his mouth. He could almost forget the horrible taste of smoke and rot that was engraved on his lips once he chewed.

Putting out his cigarette with the tip of his boot, the Frenchman made his way to the pantry to get some of that gum to clear his breath. All he had to do was take the taste out of his mouth so Gregory wouldn’t make a fuss about it, no big deal. However, once he got there, he found nothing on the shelf they usually store their candy.

It wasn't for lack of searching or organization, since the Englishman was always sure to keep everything organized to make cooking easier. If Christophe wasn't able to find something in the pantry, it's because they ran out of it.

“The son of a bitch took the last gum!” He grumbled between his teeth. “Bastard!”

Christophe hated when people went through his stuff, and he had _specifically_ put his name on the last box of strawberry gum. Gregory _knew_ he shouldn't take it, but since when does the Englishman obey orders from someone other than his superiors at work?

Now, you must say ‘couldn’t he just buy another box?’ Maybe he could, but here's the thing: Gregory was a bastard, but he was a _fancy_ bastard. Which means any food he brought home probably costed an _absurd_ amount of money, the kind of amount Christophe couldn’t make in a whole year, even if he worked 24/7. And although they were able to spend money, none of them liked to spend too much due to the instability of their jobs. 

It wasn't always that Christophe's mercenary work paid well - and he generally hated the job anyway - and Gregory received just over two minimum wages with his job in Wendy's office. So when it came to spending money for them, saving never hurt anyone.

Which meant he wouldn't see another one of his precious boxes of gum anytime soon.

Leaving the pantry behind, Christophe went after Gregory to demand an explanation on why did something of _his_ disappear.

Maybe it was futile and even childish on his part, to be upset about something like that, but having lived together for two years, Gregory knows enough about him to remember he doesn’t like when people touch his things, especially when it came to food. So what if Christophe is greedy?

The Frenchman found Gregory in the living room, laying on the sofa and staring at the ceiling, just like he always did when he had the day off. The blond greeted him with a smile and a nod, as if it had been some time they’d seen each other and not just five minutes ago while Christophe was stomping into the pantry.

That's when Christophe took notice of a crucial detail about Gregory:

He was still chewing.

 _He was chewing his gum_.

An evil smile crossed the Frenchman’s lips, who completely forgot he had just taken a drag of his cigarette and still had a stinky breath. 

He walked to Gregory and sat next to him on the couch, leaning over him before the Englishman could notice and sealed their lips together in a quick, deep kiss.

Gregory’s eyes widened, astonished at his boyfriend’s sudden gesture. However, who was he to refuse a display of affection, especially from Christophe, who wasn’t exactly the most tender person in the world? In the end, he reciprocated the kiss and let the Frenchman make his way between his lips with his tongue, without even realizing for a second that he was using his lack of attention to steal his gum.

His lips parted and Gregory let out a sigh, his breath ripped from his lungs.

Christophe would have smiled a victorious smile, for he got what he wanted: to recover his stolen gum. However, there was one small detail to the conclusion of his evil plan: he was unable to chew. It was as if the gum was out of his reach, even though it was still very much in his mouth. He tried rolling his tongue around the insides of his mouth, desperately trying to get that sweet strawberry taste he had tasted in Gregory's mouth, but he felt nothing but saliva and a something stuck at the end of his throat.

His eyes suddenly widened, as he finally understood what was happening.

He managed to steal the gum. But it was such a well orchestrated plan that he ended up accidentally _swallowing_ the damn thing. And now it was stuck in his throat.

Gregory, without realizing it at first, laughed out loud, his brain still fuzzy by the kiss.

“What was _that_ for?” However, when Christophe didn't answer, he got serious, the smiled having been dropped from his lips completely. Gregory sat on the couch and stared at Christophe with his head hanging to the side. “Toffee? Is everything okay?” he asked.

The Frenchman, leaning forward, put his hand over his throat, sucking in a desperate breath.

“Love?” he called for Gregory in a shaken voice. “I think I swallowed your gum.”

Gregory frowned for a second, not completely understanding of the situation until the puzzle pieces finally connected.

He blinked, not the least bit impressed.

“You're choking, aren't you?”

“Yeah.”

Gregory sighed and rolled his eyes, getting up from the couch and putting himself behind Christophe.

Some slaps on his back did the trick: the gum came back with a cough, straight into the Englishman’s hand, who threw it away while Christophe was busy catching his breath.

“Why did you throw it away?” the Frenchman asked, incredulous, as if Gregory had just committed a sin.

“You were _not_ eating that.”

“I wasn't going to eat it! I was going to _chew_ it!”

“Yeah, ‘was’. From the verb ‘not anymore’.” The Englishman snapped back.

Christophe narrowed his eyes at him.

“It's your fault for taking my fucking gum!”

And if Gregory couldn't be more impressed with his boyfriend's bullshit, that one certainly did the trick.

“Chris, I could get how many of these boxes I wanted. You just needed to ask.”

At first, Christophe thought it was a joke. But he knew Gregory's expressions very well, and the way he faced him, as if he was wasting his time, wasn’t the face of someone who was joking.

“ ...Are you fucking serious?”

“They give these gums for free back at the office. Sometimes we are allowed to bring some boxes home.”

Christophe never wanted to shoot himself so bad before.

Did he seriously just almost die for _nothing_?

Now he felt even stupider than before. Not only had he not succeeded in getting the gum he so desperately wanted, but now he also made a fool of himself in front of his boyfriend.

Well, he could feel bad later. Now he had more important things to do.

“And where are they”

Gregory raised an eyebrow.

“Where are what?”

“The boxes, duh.”

“Do you really think that after this demonstration of _maturity_ I saw here, I'm _still_ getting you gum?” the blonde snapped.

“Yeah?”

“No way.”

He got up from the couch and completely ignored the expression of outrage and betrayal on Christophe's face while walking back to the kitchen.

“Gregoryyyyy!”

“Oh, don’t ‘Gregory’ me, mister.” he frowned. “Once you learn how to eat like a normal person, _then_ you come to me.”

“I don’t have a gagging problem!” Christophe protested.

Gregory narrowed his eyes at him. 

“You're not getting any gum, Christophe.”

“Damn it, Gregory! I'll give you a blowjob, just give me my fucking gum back!”

The offer was tempting, but Gregory never went back once he settled on something. 

“No means no, Christophe.”

Feeling betrayed, Christophe frowned and grit his teeth. After everything that just happened, he couldn't be more humiliated. The Frenchman grabbed his cigarette box and stomped back into the bedroom without saying anything further.

The sound of the door slamming shut echoed through the whole apartment, making the Englishman raise his eyebrows, though he wasn’t in the least bit impressed.

He rolled his eyes, but ended up laughing.

Yes, Christophe wouldn't talk to him for a week, but at least he wouldn't choke to death.


End file.
